


Cigarette

by Merixcil



Category: Kpop - Fandom, Topp Dogg, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 13:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s always like this. They fuck, Hyosang chain smokes and Seokjin wonders what it feels like to choke your own lungs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cigarette

Smoke spills from Hyosang’s parted lips, writhing up through the early morning air like a dragon hunting the first rays of sunshine that cut across the dark of his bedroom from between the curtains. The stub of his cigarette blinks brighter with each drag only to fade when he ceases to suck the life from it though the smoke is always visible, curling though empty air, filling spaces, absorbing silence.

It’s always like this. They fuck, Hyosang chain smokes and Seokjin wonders what it feels like to choke your own lungs. 

“Stop staring,” Hyosang breathes. There isn’t anywhere else to look.

The cigarette goes out for good and they are left lying under ash stained sheets. Seokjin twists his fingers around Hyosang’s and squeezes hard, draws the pair of them closer and follows the hand reaching for another. A lighter flares, throwing their faces into sharp relief, the soft planes and wide eyes of Hyosang that always look so different in the MVs and that look all too innocent now, too innocent for the satisfied sigh that escapes him on the first drag, too innocent for the smoke gushing from his nostrils, too innocent for the way his eyes roll back in his head when Seokjin’s hand slides over his thigh.

“We’ve only just finished,” he whispers, but he’s smiling. Seokjin’s hand closes over his dick and strokes him till he’s hard – the only sounds between them the soft rustle of sheets and empty breaths of excitement.

It takes the lifespan of a single cigarette for Hyosang to come. Seokjin ignores his groans and whimpers and the way his hips snap up off the bed as he climaxes, his mind too firmly focused on the smoke gushing from his throat and the glint of fire newly bright on every toke.

Seokjin breathes deep and tastes smoke on the tip of his tongue. It reminds him of the worry he can’t keep at bay when Yoongi comes home wreaking of the stuff and it’s all too obvious that he’s been hanging out with the Wrong Crowd. It reminds him of stressful, sleepless nights close to debut spent at the studio when Namjoon couldn’t pretend he didn’t want to poison his blood any longer. It reminds him of heartbreaks suffered doing laundry and finding the smell clinging desperately to Jungkook’s favourite hoodie even after three spin cycles.

He doesn’t think it could ever remind of Hyosang.

“C’mere,” Hyosang draws him forward, his eyes hooded and sleepy, his breath calm and content, but as their lips meet Seokjin is greeted by a lungful of smoke. It leaks from their noses, from every point their lips aren’t quite touching, it leaks back into Seokjin’s throat and makes his eyes water. It stains their tongues and lines their teeth and Seokjin doesn’t know if it’s the smoke or Hyosang that makes it hard to breathe. 

He pulls away and a fresh cigarette is pressed to his lips. It burns the back of his throat and he splutters the smoke back out again. Hyosang chuckles, 

“Breathe deeper,” 

Seokjin tries again. And again. And again. 

“Nevermind, these things can kill you ya know?” Hyosang takes pity on the coughing mess Seokjin has been reduced to and removes the cigarette. 

“So why don’t you stop?” Seokjin’s eyes cannot leave the two fingers that bring the lit stick to Hyosang’s lips. Hyosang shrugs,

“They remind me of you I guess.”

And there isn’t really anything to say to that, so Seokjin watches the clouds of smoke above their heads form familiar shapes, and by the time the sun has risen he has decided to throw the rest of the Marlborough pack down the toilet.

Hyosang doesn’t stop him, but when the last cigarette has been flushed, he’s already gone. 

The lighter is still on the nightstand, propping up a note written in Hyosang’s neat hand – _keep this safe for me babe x_

Seokjin traces the edges of the object, feels smooth plastic and rough metal, drags his finger through the flame and doesn’t feel it burn. He raises it to his nose and breathes deep. It smells of Hyosang, calm and smiling and determined. 

But it doesn’t smell the least bit like smoke.

**Author's Note:**

> So as far as I'm aware Kidoh doesn't smoke??? And I've probably written him really OOC??? But idk I find cigarettes interesting and I haven't written this pairing before so here you go!


End file.
